


Leather Choked and Cuffed to My Hand

by ragingrainbow



Series: 100 Kinks Challenge [3]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Collars, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Scott, Kink Exploration, Leashes, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Restraints, Submissive Mitch, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: Exactly eleven minutes pass before Mitch is padding into the room. He’s moving slowly, and when his eyes find the box in front of Scott he straightens up just a little more. He’s almost all the way across the room when Scott holds up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

  "On your knees,” Scott commands, and Mitch obeys wordlessly; slides to his knees in one smooth movement and waits, head bowed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 100 kinks challenge, prompt #9: First time.
> 
> Betad by silentdescant.
> 
> Crossposted to [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/320696076-100-kinks-challenge-~-scomiche-leather-choked-and).

  
  
  


It takes almost three weeks before Scott can give Mitch his collar. At first Scott himself is to blame for the delay - he wasn’t aware of the variety of collars that exist, and he feels unsure about which kind Mitch would prefer. He would ask, except he feels like an important part of this thing is for Mitch to wear a collar that Scott picked for him. 

And also, if he’s honest with himself, the idea of Mitch in _his_ collar is intriguing and exciting to him by now, and there are a lot of collars he would love to see Mitch wearing. He’s tempted to jerk off to the fantasy - but he’s not letting Mitch touch himself these days and it doesn’t feel right to bring himself off after imposing that rule. He knows Mitch wouldn't mind--Mitch not allowed to touch himself while Scott gets off right in front of him is a whole different fantasy--but Scott mostly gets enjoyment from bringing Mitch pleasure. It's just that sometimes that requires denying Mitch pleasure.

Eventually, he settles for a gorgeous black and white leather collar - it’s actually a black collar with a thinner white strip of leather in the middle, and he can picture it standing out gorgeously against Mitch’s skin. He orders it in a set with four cuffs and other accessories; they haven’t really talked about cuffs before, but Mitch likes being restrained and the cuffs seem like a good idea. They may not be as inconspicuous as scarves when travelling, but a lot more comfortable for Mitch. Not that he had complained last week when his wriggling had rubbed the skin on his wrists raw (Mitch’s giant sweatshirt had easily hidden the evidence), but Scott had still felt guilty. He wants to minimize the risk of Mitch getting accidentally hurt in the future. 

Once Scott’s ordered the collar, there is still a week of them being away on tour. Scott could probably pull some strings and arrange for a way to have the package delivered to them, and they do have some hotel nights strewn in there. But Scott wants them to be in their own home the first time he puts his collar on Mitch. That part feels important, somehow. So he trusts his gut instinct and waits. 

The first night home they’re definitely too jetlagged for anything as serious as giving Mitch a collar. They end up recording a video that’s mostly just them giggling about how tired they are (not the first Superfruit video on this topic, but the fans seem to enjoy them as much as anything else), before they both settle in for sleep in Scott’s bed, with Mitch snuggled against Scott’s side. Scott’s half hard, and he’s tempted to ask for Mitch’s mouth, but he likes the idea of waiting for tomorrow better. The idea of having Mitch suck him off while wearing the collar makes him even harder though, and Mitch notices. 

“Can I do something for you?” Mitch says, a formal tone in his voice despite the sleepiness bleeding through. 

Scott kisses his shoulder. “It’s fine. Sleep. I have a surprise for you tomorrow.” 

Mitch’s only response is an “Oh” that makes it clear he knows very well what Scott’s surprise is. Scott can’t resist teasing a bit, so he lets his hand slip further down, resting low on Mitch’s stomach. He leans closer to Mitch so he can whisper directly in his ear. 

“Unless you’d like me to do something for you?” 

Mitch sucks in a sharp breath as a shudder wracks his whole body. Scott loves this, loves how easily Mitch responds to him. He moves his hand a little lower, letting his wrist bump against the head of Mitch’s cock. 

“ _Please_ ,” Mitch whines, and Scott’s not sure Mitch himself knows what he’s actually begging for. 

He licks the shell of Mitch’s ear before he speaks again, and Mitch’s hips make an aborted movement like he just can’t control his own body. Which is the truth, really, since he’s readily giving up that control to Scott. 

“Please what?” Scott teases, “Let you come? Or leave you hard and ready for tomorrow?” 

“Please,” Mitch chokes out. Scott bites his earlobe, gently. 

“Can’t do both. Maybe I should fuck you instead? Do it maddingly slow and not let you come…” 

“Yesss…” Mitch whines, and Scott feels helpless against the way Mitch is begging with his whole body, his back arching and his breath coming in short gasps. So much for just sleeping tonight. 

“Okay,” Scott says, “okay, I’ve got you.” He drops a few kisses on Mitch’s shoulder before he turns around to get a condom out of the nightstand. 

He gives himself a few quick strokes before slipping the condom on, and uses two fingers slicked only with his own precome to open Mitch up a little. He listens for tells of it being too much, but there’s only the barest hint of pain in Mitch’s whimpers, and when he replaces the fingers with his cock Mitch presses back as if he’s chasing that pain. 

“Easy, easy,” Scott breathes against his ear, and Mitch stills to let Scott set the pace. 

Scott pulls Mitch flush against his chest, and Mitch writhes in his hold. The angle is all wrong like this, he can’t get very deep and he has to settle for slow, short thrusts, but it doesn’t matter. This is about the intention rather than the quality of the fuck. Besides, he did promise for it to be maddingly slow, and he always keeps his promises to Mitch. 

It doesn’t take long for Mitch to start babbling, a sure sign he’s overwhelmed, even though Scott has barely touched him yet. He knows Mitch needs his touch when he’s like this, though, so he keeps one arm wrapped tight around Mitch’s chest and starts running the other hand over Mitch’s body, touching everywhere but Mitch’s straining cock. Mitch loses words when Scott starts teasing his nipples, but his body is begging as clearly as any words ever could. 

Scott’s orgasm is almost perfunctory - he’s too focused on Mitch to chase his own pleasure, too caught up in the way Mitch responds to every slight touch. His whining changes timbre when Scott comes; it sounds less like begging now and more like acceptance. Scott stills his hand, and trails gentle kisses across Mitch’s back. 

“Always so good for me,” Scott murmurs, “so proud of you, baby.” 

Mitch strains against Scott’s hold on him then, and Scott lets up so Mitch can turn around. He burrows up against Scott’s chest under the covers. His cock bumps against Scott’s leg when he turns, and he’s still so hard there’s a moment when Scott wants to just jerk him off, but it’s obviously not what Mitch needs from him. Tomorrow, Scott reminds himself, he gets to reward Mitch tomorrow. 

For now, Scott makes do with holding Mitch close and whispering praise until Mitch is calm enough for his breathing to even out as he falls asleep.

\---

Scott wakes up first the following morning, and spends a few moments just looking at Mitch’s sleeping form. His heart is filled with adoration and pride, and he still can’t believe Mitch wants to wear a collar _for him_. He has to pad out of bed and peek into the box he’s tucked in his wardrobe to make sure it’s real. 

Mitch is going to need his strength later, so Scott kisses his cheek before leaving him to shower and run down to Starbucks. Mitch is blinking awake when he returns, and Scott gets back in bed so they can lounge around for a bit. 

Mitch gravitates towards Scott, silently asking to be touched. Scott’s only too happy to indulge him, and they end up spending the whole morning snuggling in bed whilst browsing through their phones. Scott feels Mitch’s arousal a few times when Mitch shifts against him, but there is nothing to indicate that Mitch is in a hurry for Scott to do anything about it, so Scott doesn’t. This is the longest he’s denied Mitch so far, and he does find the prospect of having Mitch desperate and begging while wearing a collar Scott put on him more exciting than he expected. 

Scott waits until after lunch to initiate anything. They’re in the kitchen clearing away dishes when Scott presses Mitch up against the counter, grinding his half hard dick against Mitch’s hip. Mitch gasps and stands absolutely still. 

“Leave the rest. I want you to go upstairs, have a shower, and come back down to me within fifteen minutes. You don’t need clothes.” Scott’s a little proud of himself for getting through that without stumbling over any of the words. 

“Yes,” Mitch hesitates for a moment, and his tone is a little unsure when he adds, “Sir.” 

They haven’t actually discussed honorifics for Scott - Mitch’s been very clear about pet names he finds acceptable, but has never indicated any interest in calling Scott by anything other than his name. Scott guesses this is something that was unplanned for, a need which made itself in the moment. He finds that the title sends a thrill up his spine though, so he’s quick to reassure Mitch. 

“Good girl,” he says, and cops a feel of Mitch’s ass before shooing him upstairs. 

Scott leaves the rest of the dishes for later - or tomorrow, more likely - and retrieves the box with the collar and cuffs from his room. He goes back downstairs, and puts the box down on the coffee table before he settles down on the couch. He undoes a couple of buttons on his shirt, and then spends a few moments shuffling around trying to find a position that looks casual yet authoritative. 

Exactly eleven minutes pass before Mitch is padding into the room. He’s moving slowly, and when his eyes find the box in front of Scott he straightens up just a little more. He’s almost all the way across the room when Scott holds up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

“On your knees,” Scott commands, and Mitch obeys wordlessly; slides to his knees in one smooth movement and waits, head bowed. 

Scott stands, and opens the box. He takes out the collar and wrist cuffs - leaving the ankle cuffs, chains, and a leash in the box. He has no plans to use those tonight, thinking it best to start off easy. 

Mitch is still kneeling obediently with his eyes downcast when Scott looks up at him again. He must be curious and impatient, but there is no sign of it other than the way his breath hitches a little. 

Scott grabs the cuffs and walks the couple of steps to Mitch. Mitch shifts minutely as he draws closer.

“Give me your hands,” Scott says, keeping his tone gentle but authoritative. 

Mitch is quick to do as he’s told, holding his hands out for Scott to secure the cuffs. Scott then walks around him to clip the cuffs together at the small of Mitch’s back. Mitch strains a little against them, an almost imperceptible movement, just testing their hold. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Mitch murmurs softly, and Scott’s mouth is suddenly very dry. He has to clear his throat as he moves to get the collar off the table. He tries in vain to stop his hands from shaking as he picks it up. 

“Look at me,” he demands when he’s standing in front of Mitch, only just managing to control the tremors in his hands. This feels momentous - bigger even than their first TV performance or arena show - and he’s so afraid of messing it up. So afraid of hurting Mitch when Mitch trusts him enough to willingly submit to him. He feels that responsibility like a physical weight, not least because he was looking out for Mitch’s well-being long before they ever got to this point.

Mitch raises his gaze slowly. The way it travels up Scott’s body is neither teasing nor demanding; reverent would be a more proper way to describe it. He looks all the way up, meeting Scott’s eyes for a moment before he fixates on the collar. His pupils are blown wide and his mouth falls open just a little when he takes it in, and Scott really cannot wait another moment to wrap the leather around his neck. 

The change in Mitch once Scott has fastened the collar is tangible. His breathing deepens, back straightening and shoulders slumping just a fraction. His gaze is slightly unfocused when Scott commands him to look up again. Scott’s eyes fall to the collar - the contrast of the black and white leather against Mitch’s tanned skin is striking, and Scott’s breath sticks in his throat. 

Mitch waits so, so patiently. It doesn’t matter that Scott is momentarily so overwhelmed by possibilities that he doesn’t know what to do next. Waiting can be part of the game. 

Scott clears his throat, suddenly overcome by curiosity, by a need to understand what this means to Mitch. “Talk to me. How does it feel?” 

Mitch just breathes for a few moments, clearly just as overwhelmed as Scott, although it’s skillfully hidden beneath his submission. Scott runs his fingers across Mitch’s cheek, then backs up to sit on the couch, put some distance between them for a moment. 

“Feels good,” Mitch starts, and it turns into scattered babbling, “feel owned-- cared for-- loved-- want everyone to see it-- I’m yours, Sir, I’m yours, _please_ , I-- please--”

“You _are_ loved, pet,” Scott manages to get out, need burning low in his stomach. He parts his legs to invite Mitch to settle between them. “C’mere.”

Mitch responds instantly, awkwardly hobbling forwards on his knees - and Scott can’t believe how hot it is to have Mitch struggling to get to him. Mitch sighs softly once he’s made it and Scott settles a hand on the back of his head. 

“You’re doing so good,” Scott murmurs, “so, so good. Love you.” He slides his hand down to caress the skin just above the collar.

Mitch gives Scott a bright smile at the praise, a pleased sparkle in his eyes. He looks like he might just float away at any moment unless Scott keeps anchoring him to his spot on the floor. Scott’s gripped by desire for a physical tether, and he remembers the leash in the box on the table. Scott’s stomach makes contact with Mitch’s face when he leans forward to get the box, and Mitch sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t protest. 

Scott fishes the leash out of the box and holds it up for Mitch to see. This is another thing they haven’t discussed, although it was a ‘want to try’ on Mitch’s checklist, and Scott needs his agreement. “Can I?” He swallows the please that wants to slip out, doesn’t want to sway Mitch’s choice by pleading. 

“Yes,” Mitch breathes out, tipping his head back to bare his neck. 

Scott fumbles to get the leash secured to the ring at the front of the collar - it takes three attempts to get the clasp open and secured. Mitch doesn’t seem to notice his clumsiness at all - his breathing deep and centered until Scott gives the leash an experimental pull and causes Mitch breath to stutter. 

“Oh my God,” Scott whispers. Mitch’s eyes fall closed when he pulls the leash again, and Scott puts his free hand against Mitch’s cheek. “No, open your eyes, look at me.”

Mitch blinks his eyes open slowly, gaze locking on Scott’s with some difficulty. His eyes look black now, pupils blown so wide with arousal and submission. 

“Sir,” Mitch says, and there’s so much weight in that little word that Scott’s world tilts completely off its axis for a moment. 

He was planning to make this about Mitch’s pleasure, but with Mitch like this, cuffed, collared, and leashed between his legs, those plans are but a faint memory. It’s about Scott’s wants now - Mitch needs it to be about Scott, he realizes - and Scott can’t wait another moment to push in between those warm, soft lips. Mitch’s tongue darts out to wet them as if he can read that need in Scott’s eyes. Perhaps he can; Scott never had a good poker face. 

Scott moves his right hand to unzip his jeans, looping the leash around his left hand. Once he has his dick free he pulls Mitch forward until his lips bump against the head. Mitch opens his mouth without being prompted, jaw going slack as he holds still, inviting Scott to use him. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Scott chokes out as he pushes in. Normally Mitch rocks back just a little to adjust to Scott’s girth, but Scott’s pulled the leash short, keeping him in place. 

Mitch’s eyes widen in surprise; Scott realizes he’s choking him and is just about to pull out and apologise when the shock on Mitch’s face changes into pleasure. Scott groans and pulls back so he can thrust forward again, a little slower this time, giving Mitch time to pull in a few hurried breaths. Scott worries for a moment about Mitch’s voice, then remembers that they have a rare two weeks off now and there’s literally nothing stopping him from leaving an audible mark on Mitch tonight. 

Scott holds still and pulls Mitch forward a little more; Mitch widens his stance slightly to keep his balance but makes no other movement, responding easily to the way Scott directs him with the leash. He’s still looking up at Scott, and Scott’s amazed by the naked trust in his eyes as Scott pulls him forward enough to cut off his air. There’s drool and precome running down his chin and he’s desperately trying to pull in quick breaths through his nose and to Scott he’s never been more beautiful than in this moment. Scott’s going to come within seconds if they keep this up, and he doesn’t want to yet because he always gets so lethargic after coming, so he pulls Mitch back off. He takes a few moments to just breathe, keeping the leash tight so Mitch doesn’t get the same breather. Scott instinctually feels like Mitch needs him to push tonight, but he needs to make sure. 

“Okay?” he asks, giving the leash some slack and wiping the mess off Mitch’s chin with his free hand. 

“Yes,” Mitch responds with a dreamy smile, his voice betraying the rough edges of Scott’s dominance. 

Scott gives them both a few moments to breathe then. He picks up the water bottle he’s left on the table and takes a sip before offering a few mouthfuls to Mitch. He thinks maybe he should have had the foresight to get a straw, but the simple act of tipping the bottle for Mitch is a heady display of trust. He could easily choke Mitch like this if he wanted to - they both know he wouldn’t, of course not - but the simple fact that he _could_ is enough. 

“Up,” Scott directs once he’s put the bottle back down, tugging at the leash as he speaks. 

Mitch comes easily, becoming impossibly small as he folds onto Scott’s lap. Scott just holds him for a bit, taming errant shudders with soft caresses. Then he kisses Mitch, hard and demanding, and Mitch opens up to him beautifully, whimpers and sighs and squirms on his lap. 

“Turn around,” Scott manages, breathless now from the kiss. There’s a mirror on the wall opposite them, and Scott wants Mitch to see himself like this. Mitch doesn’t need his direction to look; he _loves_ seeing himself tied up. He moans when his gaze lands on the collar around his neck. 

Scott lets go of the leash, placing one arm around Mitch’s waist to keep him still while he teases Mitch’s dick with the other hand. He runs the tips of his fingers along the length, more like tickling than doing anything to bring him closer to orgasm. He uses his lips and tongue on Mitch’s neck; Mitch’s whining goes several pitches higher before he breaks. 

“Please,” he sobs, “ _please_.” 

“What do you need, pet?” Scott squeezes the base of Mitch’s cock before moving the hand to his inner thigh, gentling him. 

Scott expects Mitch to beg for orgasm at this stage; he’s so close his whole body is trembling with the effort of waiting for Scott’s permission. Tears are clinging to his eyelashes and Scott can read the need for release in his eyes where they meet his in the mirror. 

“Fuck me,” Mitch says instead, “Sir, please.” 

It’s Scott who whimpers then, overwhelmed and helpless as he struggles to get a condom from the drawer in the coffee table. Mitch balances forward a little to give him room to get it on, sitting back again as soon as he’s done, not leaving any room for prep. 

“You sure?” Scott has to ask, because he’s always so afraid of hurting Mitch, of getting too caught up in the heat of the moment and not realizing if Mitch is pushing himself too far. 

Mitch is apparently beyond words, but he nods jerkily and grinds down on Scott’s lap. Scott gets his hands on Mitch’s hips to keep him still - Mitch has little control like this, his legs trembling and his hands bound and trapped between their bodies, so it’s up to Scott to control the penetration. It’s tempting to just take, to thrust in in one quick movement, but he won’t, not without any prep. He makes it slow instead, arms straining as he keeps Mitch’s weight steady so he won’t sink down too quickly. 

He has to pause once Mitch is fully seated, count from twenty backwards in his head to stave off the urgent need to come with Mitch’s warmth wrapped tightly around his cock. Mitch is keening, and he falls bonelessly back against Scott’s chest. He jerks as if shocked when Scott wraps a hand around his dick. 

“Won’t last long,” Scott pants in his ear, “Want you to come when I do.” Mitch makes an aborted movement with his head which Scott reads as a nod. 

It really doesn’t take long - luckily, because fucking up into Mitch is difficult with Mitch being mostly dead weight on his lap - and when Scott’s right on the edge he lets go of Mitch’s hips with one hand, working two fingers in under the collar, and he tumbles over the edge just as Mitch comes with a choked off cry. 

His orgasm feels like a punch to the gut, completely cutting off his air for a few terrifying moments, and it seems to go on forever as he scrambles to find his way back to some semblance of active consciousness. He’s relieved when he finally becomes aware enough again to make sure he actually released the collar. Mitch is slumped on his lap, and he drops a few uncoordinated kisses to Mitch shoulder - which is the only part of him within easy reach of Scott’s lips. 

“Come on, up,” Scott urges, managing to get Mitch moved enough for him to get the condom off and thrown away, before he unclasps the cuffs and brings Mitch’s arms to his sides. Mitch sighs in relief when Scott clumsily rubs at his arms and shoulders, soothing strained muscles. 

Scott pulls a blanket over them and offers Mitch some water - he has to help Mitch hold the bottle, because Mitch is still trembling too much to be steady. He unclasps the leash and drops it back into the box, but Mitch stops him when he reaches for the collar. 

“Can I keep it on?” Mitch asks, hiding his face against Scott’s shoulder as if he’s actually shy about this request, despite the fact that he was begging to get fucked mere moments ago. 

Scott touches Mitch’s face to get Mitch to look at him. “You can, if you’re sure?” 

“Yes,” Mitch replies quickly, and his eyes are so sincere when they meet Scott’s. 

“These too?” Scott prompts, tapping the cuff around Mitch’s right wrist. 

Mitch hesitates for a moment at this. “Yes, I think so.” He hesitates again before adding “Sir” in a way that makes it sound as if he’s only now tasting the word. 

Scott smiles encouragingly at him as heat spreads throughout his body. He thought it might just have been a heat of the moment thing, but now he’s intrigued by his own reaction to the idea of Mitch wearing a collar and casually calling him _Sir_ outside of sexual scenes. He thinks he could actually get used to it, and he’s already enjoying it. 

He wraps his arms around Mitch and kisses him chastely before letting Mitch rest against his chest. He can’t stop his hands from wandering over Mitch’s body, but Mitch doesn’t seem to mind from the way his breathing deepens. He shudders every time Scott’s hands find a particularly sensitive spot. 

Scott’s going to have to order food in a bit, make sure Mitch is fed and cared for. For now he doesn’t even turn the TV on, content to just breathe as long as he can have Mitch all pliant and soft and warm on his lap.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bad Romance by 30 Seconds to Mars.


End file.
